d, climbing out on the
opposite bank, he sprang after his retreating foe.

The zambo had by this time got full two hundred yards in the advance,
but before he had run two hundred more, there was not half that distance
between them. There was no comparison in their speed. Carlos fairly
doubled upon his terrified antagonist, although the latter was doing his
utmost. He knew that he was running for his life.

Not ten minutes did the chase continue.

Carlos drew near. The zambo heard his footsteps close behind. He felt
it was idle to run any longer. He halted, and once more stood at bay.

In another instant the two were face to face, within ten feet of each
other!

Both were armed with large knives--their only weapons--and, dim as the
light was, the blades of these could be seen glittering in the air.

The foes scarce waited to breathe themselves. A few angry exclamations
passed between them; and then, rushing upon each other, they clutched in
earnest conflict!

It was a short conflict. A dozen seconds would have covered its whole
duration. For a while, the bodies of the combatants seemed turned
around each other, and one of them fell heavily upon the plain. A groan
was uttered. It was in the voice of the zambo. It was he who had
fallen!

The prostrate form wriggled for a moment over the ground--it half rose
and fell again--then writhed for a few seconds longer, and then lay
still in death!

The cibolero bent over it to be assured of this. Death was written upon
the hideous face. The marks were unmistakeable. The victor no longer
doubted; and, turning away from the corpse, he walked back towards the
river.

Having regained his rifle and powder-horn, and reloaded his gun, Carlos
now proceeded to search for the horses.

These were soon found. A bullet was sent through the head of the
bloodhound, and another through that of his more wolf-like companion,
and the horses were then untied and set free.

This done, Carlos once more returned to the glade, and, after lifting
Cibolo down from his perch, he approached the fire, and gazed for a
moment at the corpse of the yellow hunter. The fires were blazing more
brightly than ever. These were fed by human flesh!

Turning in disgust from the sight, the cibolero collected his garments,
and, once more mounting into the saddle, rode off in the direction of
the ravine.

CHAPTER SIXTY TWO.

Three days had elapsed from the time that the yellow hunter